No es la fruta ni la flor la que posee la sabiduría del poder
Es una semilla tremenda la que ofrece desaprender
Ellas mantienen la realidad con retos de la verdad
El mundo nos cambia,
Pero las semillas mantienen nuestra integridad
De la fruta solo sale la explotación y la vanidad
Ques’que para una modernidad
Pero la semilla guarda nuestra historia repleta para un nuevo despertad
Son testigas de la coloniadidad
Un triste despecho de la humanidad
Que para siempre cambio nuestra eternidad
Y borro nuestra humildad por una ambición sin parar
Con una falsa idea de globalidad y unidad
Se robó el pasado para un asimilar
Y yo ya no encuentro mi identidad!
Por favor semillita destápame los ojos de esta totalidad
J.Mar
Author: J.Mar
I was born and raised in Kern County in an unincorporated area of Kern, CA. My parents moved there in the 90s to make a living as farm workers. Watching them barter their bodies, homelands, and family for a chance at the “American Dream” has caused me to reflect. My writing here is largely the unceremonious unpacking and repacking of what was won and lost in this exchange.
My version of the dream consists of completing a PhD in Public Policy. I currently study public finance, public participation, and remittances in Mexico. I am also generally interested in the Latinx public finance experience.
I’ve learned to be cautiously optimistic about the future.
Lastly, I love plants and cleaning is a freeing ritual to me.
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JMar 